


Cor Meum

by sanctuary_for_all



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Bless this episode, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Missing Scene, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 21:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20459912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: "I would have assumed you'd name Arthur your sole heir," Sherlock said quietly, voice utterly neutral.She turned around to watch his face, leaning back against the counter. "I did," she said, just as quietly. "But if the chemotherapy doesn't go the way we hope it will, there's one very important thing I can't leave him."Set in the year between the hug and the very end of the series finale.





	Cor Meum

**Author's Note:**

> Title is Latin for "My Heart." I swear, I could spend months just writing scenes from that missing year.

Mornings were never quiet with a small child, even one as gentle and understanding as Arthur. Joan could still keep up, as long as she was careful not to eat anything, but after he'd gone off to school she let herself unravel a little. She'd tried to downplay her exhaustion and nausea in front of Sherlock early on, not wanting him to worry, but she didn't bother anymore. He always saw it, anyway.

He'd left her a freshly brewed pot of the unpronounceable tea he'd found, which tasted faintly like sweat socks but had proven to be the only thing she could keep down some mornings. She poured herself a cup and brought it to the kitchen table, contemplating the paperwork spread out before her. In some ways it was enough to make her stomach twist, even without the chemotherapy, but this was one thing she couldn't leave to chance.

She was just finishing when Sherlock came home, long-suffering in the way he always was when he'd had to deal with bureaucracy too long. "Behold, I am once again legally among the living," he announced, taking out a newly issued driver's license and laying it out in front of her. "Does this satisfy you?"

She smiled a little. "Yes." Closing her folder, she picked up the license as he sat down in the chair next to hers. He was glaring in the picture, and it pleased her to imagine the conversation that preceded it. "Make any new mortal enemies while you were out?"

His expression softened. "I'd considered it." He leaned back, studying her face. "I must confess, however, that the reasoning behind your urgency escapes me. We have far more important priorities than whether or not I'm able to legally purchase cigarettes."

Joan let out a breath, smile fading as she returned her attention to the folder. "You're right." Wrapping briskness around her like a cloak, she decided to risk another cup of tea and got up to retrieve it. They hadn't happened yet, but she already dreaded the days she would be exhausted enough she would need Sherlock to do it for her. "But if you don't officially exist, it complicates some of my own paperwork considerably."

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Sherlock silently pick up the pen and use it to open the front of the folder a few inches. He closed it quickly, as if it had bitten him. "I would have assumed you'd name Arthur your sole heir," he said quietly, voice utterly neutral.

She turned around to watch his face, leaning back against the counter. "I did," she said, just as quietly. "But if the chemotherapy doesn't go the way we hope it will, there's one very important thing I can't leave him."

Sherlock just stared at her for a moment, uncomprehending. He looked over at her will, then back at her, and a heartbeat later shock filled his expression. Another heartbeat after that, it went fragile as glass. "I don't understand."

Picking up her cup, she returned to sit beside him. "Yes, you do."

He met her eyes, still looking lost. "Marcus is already an excellent father." When he blinked, she could see his eyes were wet. "And it's clear how much he loves Arthur."

Joan's throat tightened, remembering Sherlock carefully explaining the bees to Arthur, or reading him bedtime stories with a considerable amount of color commentary. Sherlock was highly dismissive of pretty much every childhood educational toy that had ever been made, but he listened with the utmost patience and attentiveness to anything and everything Arthur wanted to tell him. "It's clear how much you love him, too."

He let out an unsteady breath. "Yes." He looked away, clearing his throat in an attempt to collect himself before turning back to Joan. "However, I am also far less of a... stabilizing figure than Marcus is." He swallowed. "Should... the worst happen, that would only be compounded."

When she'd first been diagnosed, when she hadn't known whether Sherlock was still alive or not, it had been her vague plan to ask Marcus if he would be willing to take on the potential responsibility. He was, in many ways, still the most logical choice.

She reached over, taking his hand in hers. "He's my heart, Sherlock." Her voice was thick. "Who else would I possibly trust with my heart?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, the tears spilling over, then lifted her hand to press a kiss against the back of it. "I would give him everything I had in me," he breathed, voice rough.

Her own eyes filled. "I know you would."

After a long, silent moment, he lifted his head. "So." He cleared his throat. "Shall we see what your publisher's latest desperate ploy for a sequel is, or do you want to hear about the _charming_ septuagenarian who seemed convinced I was some sort of Sherlock Holmes tribute artist?"

Joan smiled, wiping her eyes. "Surprise me."

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my [original fiction,](https://jennifferwardell.wixsite.com/mybooks) my [blog,](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


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